


Smarter Than Your Average Bear

by scratches



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Falling In Love, Jeeps, Learning Disabilities, Original Character(s), Smoking, Speed Dating, Teacher Darcy Lewis, U.S. Navy SEALs, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23338726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scratches/pseuds/scratches
Summary: Ms. Lewis asks Navy Seal, Brock Rumlow, and his ex-wife, Sinthea Shmidt, to attend a parent teacher conference. It isn't what they expect. A few months later, Commander  Brock is pleasantly surprised that Ms. Lewis is attending the same speed dating event as himself and he will thank Natasha until he dies for coordinating it.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 47
Kudos: 263





	Smarter Than Your Average Bear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burningchaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burningchaos/gifts).



> This is a gift for Burningchaos, I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Unbeta'd don't own the characters, point out flaws below
> 
> Make sure you read the tags, there's a good portion of this that is pure unadulterated smut....as always

Long ago, Brock learned through the grapevine that Ms. Lewis was one of those teachers that was no-nonsense, but gave a shit about her students. To receive an e-mail and a call from her, CC'd to his ex-wife, regarding his son's United States Government class, was a bit alarming. The last three semesters report cards had been scanned to him while he was deployed to… well everyone thought it was the Horn of Africa. He didn't think that Tommy was doing terrible. His grade was in the high seventies, but he knew Tommy was having a tough time with the material. His grades in AP Calculus and AP Physics more than evened out the poor grade for his GPA. 

Brock sighed before he put his khaki cap on his head and moved towards the school. Mondays were khaki service dress day, and he had reviews with two of his subordinates about their behavior during the last deployment. He hadn't had to dole out any punishment, but it needed to be written down for their files. He hated to be the bad cop. Protocols were there for a reason and Brock expected his team to adhere to them 

The school bustled around him as he entered to get his visitor pass from the office. A few of the receptionists stared at him as he waited. Brock knows the figure that he cuts in his uniform. Some sailors look like goons in their khaki uniforms, not Brock. His shoulders were wide and his waist tapered in. He was also proud of the way he took care of himself and his uniform. Seal Team Six had a reputation to uphold. 

The receptionist handed over the visitor's pass as Sinthea, his ex-wife, entered the office. She also cut an imposing figure in her black tailored suit, coiffed red curls, and studded black purse. "Brock," she said, her mouth pursed.

"Sinthea." He moved so she could grab her own visitor's pass.

When they were all squared away, they stood silently next to one another while waiting for the formidable Ms. Lewis to arrive. Brock had mentioned to Barton, Commander: Seal Team 2, about the appointment with Ms Lewis and he clapped him on the shoulder, evidently Lila had issues with her Middle East studies class and Ms. Lewis hadn't beat around the bush with him. Told him just what she thought about an absent father. 

Sinthea had her phone out, scrolling through e-mails, deleting the majority of them with a left swipe. Brock met the eyes of a few students who were curious enough to stare at him through the office glass. A good portion of Military kids attended this school. Deployments were nothing new to the teachers.

A younger woman moved from the back of the office towards them. She had long dark curled hair, a curvy figure under a modest floral dress, and bright blue eyes behind a pair of thick red framed glasses. She stood shorter than him and Sinthea by a good six inches, even with the bright yellow heels she wore. Brock cleared his throat quietly and tried not to follow the silver chain around her neck that dipped into her cleavage.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long!" She stood in front of them and held out her hand to Sinthea first. "I'm Darcy Lewis, Thomas's teacher."

Sinthea looked at Darcy's hand like it pained her before she put her phone away and shook it. "Sinthea Shmidt."

Ms. Lewis reached out to Brock and smiled wide. He can't help that he has resting bitch face in these situations meeting new people brought the worst out of him. Natasha told him he would never find another woman with his face. "Brock Rumlow." He grasped her hand and was surprised at her firm grip as they shook. Their eyes met and she smiled wider. Brock attempted to soften his stare.

"If you'll follow me, I have the conference room booked for parent teacher conferences all afternoon. I was glad the both of you could make it!" Brock noted that she seemed to be in good spirits. She either had a great poker face, or the news wasn't as terrible as he feared.

"Tommy's education is important to us," Brock said diplomatically as they moved down the carpeted hall. Sinthea caught his eye and rolled hers.

"That's great to hear, you'd be surprised at how many parents take a backseat to their children's education." Ms. Lewis opened a heavy door and ushered them inside. There were different colored folders on the oval table, sheets placed across the side Ms. Lewis moved to. "Have a seat, have a seat." She sat down in a heavy faux leather chair. The wheels squeaked as she rolled forward.

Brock pulled out an office chair for Sinthea and pushed her in. Old habits die hard, even after ten years of divorce. He took a seat next to her and put his service cap on the table. The rank insignia clacked against the varnished wood. He settled into his chair and leveled his hazel eyes on his son's teacher.

She pulled a blue folder from her file and opened it over some of the papers in front of her. Brock saw a 95% grade written across the front page of a research paper that had Tommy's name on it. He looked at Sinthea and it seemed that she had noticed too. FBI habits die hard too. 

"So.." She pulled out the report and turned it towards them. "Thomas is a great student." Brock wasn't prepared for that. He knew his son could be difficult, that was why Tommy wrestled since a young age. "I'm trying to figure out why he isn't pulling these grades on his written tests." Ms. Lewis pulled out other research papers. "I know it is towards the end of the year, and I know your family," she paused, and looked for the right words, "has circumstances that most families don't deal with." 

"You mean a father who is deployed nine out of twelve months and a mother who is the executive director to a multi-million dollar company?" Sinthea cut in.

Ms. Lewis laughed. "Exactly, your reputations preceeded you."

"We've heard a bit about you too, Ms. Lewis." Sinthea clacked long, pointed black nails on the table.

"All good things, I'm sure." She smiled at Sinthea and met a cold, collected face.

"Not particularly." 

"Sinthea." Brock rumbled. "Really?" 

She shrugged.

"It's all a matter of perspective, I guess." She shot them another beaming smile. Ms. Lewis gestured to the papers again. Brock pulled the papers towards himself and looked at them. 95, 98, 100, 105. "As you can see, his research papers are great." She pulled out her grade book that had a privacy page over it. She moved the cut out down to his son's name and turned it towards them, "His tests need a bit of work." Brock and Sinthea looked at the absymal grades on the page. 

"Are you insinuating anything?" Sinthea asked.

"Tommy is _not_ a cheater." Brock continued. 

Ms. Lewis held up her petite hands, her similarly lethal manicure was a deep plum, they matched the color of her lips. "Oh, I'm not.. Ok I understand you would think that is where I was going, but it is absolutely not!" She pulled out more pages and spread them. They were printouts of all his grades from other classes. "I spoke with some of his other teachers, and we all were stumped to why Thomas is having the same issues with his tests in every class." 

Brock leaned back and steepled his fingers under his freshly shaved chin. "But none of the other teachers could contact us?"

"He's just having the most trouble in my class." Darcy nodded. Sinthea sighed next to him. "I would love to see him next year in one of the Advanced Placement history classes, I think he would do great, but I also think he needs to be evaluated for dyslexia and dysgraphia."

"You think he has a _learning disability_?" Sinthea arched a bright red brow. "At sixteen, you want us to evaluate him for a learning disability?"

Ms. Lewis tapped the research paper again. "All of his research papers across his classes...he has many weeks to prepare." She smiled. "Thomas is smart. He's really smart." She snorted. "He's trying to outsmart us all." 

"I really don't think it's a laughing matter, Ms. Lewis." Brock said.

"This is where it is _brilliant_." She waved her arms and bent over and Brock dipped his eyes to her generous, pale, cleavage, pausing to look at the small diamond nestled between her breasts, and back to her face. "He writes his papers within the first week. I've seen him pour over texts and grasp the knowledge. He asks pointed questions in and after class and writes down the answers to look into after school. He writes them all early and then goes to the learning library." She pulls out a printed sheet with dates and times. "The library keeps a log of when students are there and what services they are using." 

Brock pulled the paper towards him and his ex-wife and looked at it. Sinthea grimaced over his arm. Brock assessed his ex-wife and asked, "Did you know he was spending all this time after school? He never mentioned in any of his emails or phone calls that he was even staying after school."

"He's here for cross country, wrestling, weight lifting, and track and field through the year. Other than his meets, I figure he's with his teammates." She narrowed her eyes at Brock. "You bought him that Jeep so he could come and go as he pleases."

"He's a responsible kid." Brock put the paper down and looked back at Ms. Lewis. "So what services, exactly, is Tommy using, Ms. Lewis?" 

She leaned over the table and pointed to all of the codes. To the left of the paper. Brock met her eyes and kept his eyes on her face this time. "Eight-nine-three is a program where University students who are studying education come to the school to help our students with their school work." Ms. Lewis folded the skirt of her dress under her and sat down, the chair squeaked again. "They don't do the work for the kids, but they can provide helpful tips for streamlining ideas, verbage, sentence structure, et al." 

"And what does this have to do with dyslexia testing?" Sinthea's lips are pursed like she ate something sour. Brock hated when that look was leveled on him. It was reason seventeen for the divorce.

"I think that with plenty of time to prepare, Thomas is able to work around the issues he has with connecting words. Tests have a set time limit and that could be the reason why his grades are so poor there."

Sinthea pointed at his Physics and Calculus grades. "And how do you explain these, if he has issues with set test limits."

Brock watched Ms. Lewis' face work through a few emotions before she settled on smug. "He's just exceptional in those areas, really exceptional, _gifted_."

Sinthea seemed placated to keep her mouth shut for the time being. "And if we get him tested, how exactly would that help him?" Brock lifted a dark eyebrow.

"One of the most important things for him would be extra time for in class assignments." Her face was bright. "We all really want to see him do well. If he hasn't spoken with you about the Pym Tech internship, I have the paperwork for it." She pulled out a yellow folder with the Pym Tech logo in the center. "All of his teachers have written recommendations, his coaches too."

Brock flipped the folder open and stared at the first page. "This is a recommendation from Tony Stark."

"What the _fuck_." Sinthea grabbed the paper and looked at it. "He hasn't said a word about any of this." 

"Mr. Stark was one of the judges for the science exhibition this year. Dr. Jane Foster was impressed with his project too. We are waiting on her letter." Ms. Lewis paused. "There are great things in store for him, if he wants them."

~~

Sinthea sat in his Jeep, a cigarette between her fingers as she inhaled. "He hides everything from us, Brock. What'd we do wrong?"

"We haven't done anything wrong." He waved the smoke away from his face. "He's a teenage boy."

"Were you like this as a kid? Because I sure as hell wasn't. My father knew everything. I wanted him to know all my accomplishments." She blew a line of smoke out the open window. "He gets this behavior from you."

"You're blaming the wrong person. I was scraping by with the bare minimum so I could get into a Criminal Justice program. I was forced into JROTC because it was either that or suspension for skipping classes." Brock opened a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth. He hadn't had a cigarette in three years, and Sinthea wasn't going to be the reason he started again.

"So we are both to blame? Again?" She huffed. "Fuck. How'd we fuck this up?"

Brock snapped the gum. "At least she didn't tell us she was disappointed in us as parents."

"I don't know if I could have taken her sunny disposition and sheer glee that our son was playing us much longer." She looked at Brock. "She was very eager for our approval." Sinthea pointed the cigarette at him, the ash hung off the end. "Especially yours."

"Jealous?" He smirked.

"Hell no." She was the queen of the side eye. "I haven't pined after you since we put Zemo away."

"That was fourteen years ago, Sin." Brock let out a long suffering sigh.

"I know." Sinthea took one last inhale from the cigarette before she flicked it out the window. "Make sure Tommy knows he's supposed to be staying at my house this weekend so we can pretend to abide by the divorce agreement." She opened the black door, grabbed her purse, and sashayed towards her ruby red Aston Martin.

~~

Brock was extremely unhappy with Natasha. He was at a scotch tasting that doubled as a speed dating event. He only put up with the JSOC team member's antics because she had saved his life more time than he liked to admit. Then again, he had done the same for her. 

And he introduced her to Bruce Banner. 

The white cloth table in front of his mocked him. Speed dating. How the fuck had this happened. At least Natasha knew him and signed him up for one at a whiskey tasting. There's two note cards on the table. One is for taking notes about the whiskey and the other for taking notes about his dates. Brock was glad Natasha mentioned bringing two pens. He brought three. 

There were people milling about, but he had grabbed his number, name tag, and moved directly towards his table. He had checked his blazer so he sat alone in his light blue shirt and contrasting dark blue waistcoat. Brock had forgone the tie and had unbuttoned the top two buttons. He hated feeling like he was choked. His service dress uniform did that often enough for him.

He sipped from his water glass as he assessed the group around him. People were milling about, and he just wanted to get on with it already. He counted about thirty other people, fifteen couples. He noted the whiskey list and saw there were fifteen whiskey's to try. Brock knew there was going to be more than one drunk driver tonight.

Thankfully, Natasha had set him up for a speed dating group of adults, people between the ages of thirty five and fifty. He hoped there was at least one level headed person who would actually be tasting and not getting drunk. 

The organizer rang a bell and everyone took their seats around the room. Brock stood as a woman that looked a few years younger than him approached his table. She was tall, blonde and blue eyed in a pleated skirt and fitted blouse. He reached out his hand and introduced himself, she replied with, "Sharon," before they both sat down.

Waitstaff moved quickly to deposit snifters on all of the tables. "So how'd you end up here?" Sharon beat him to the punch.

They both picked up their glasses and swirled the amber liquid. He couldn't smell the notes of burnt oak and pecans over the perfume from the woman at the table next to them. "A friend signed me up. You?" 

"I like to meet new people." She had a small smile on her face. Brock could appreciate her honesty. 

The organizer went through the instructions on how to taste the whiskey. They both gargled and rolled a small taste of the whiskey in their mouths. Brock could taste the nutty-bitter notes of it before he grabbed the spit cup and released his mouthful. With five more minutes for this round, he made small talk with Sharon. She worked for Homeland Security, liked to knit, and was part of an intramural volleyball team, indoor and beach. He spoke about the military, enjoying cigars, his Jeep, and mentioned his son multiple times. He wasn't surprised to see her face fall. Brock steadied himself for a full night of disappointed faces. Before the bell rang for the dates to switch, Sharon took her glass and put the rest back, "I also like to have _fun_." The bell rang and she winked at him.

It went on for thirteen more dates. Thirteen more women who consistently were drunker than the last. One had even told him it was a shame he had a kid. How fucking ballsy did you have to be to do that. With a sigh, he said good night to number fourteen and stood for number fifteen. 

"Oh. Hello." It was Ms. Lewis. She was not wearing one of her trademark flowy dresses tonight. She wore a stunningly bright red dress with a plunging neckline. The same slim silver chain with the solitary diamond hung between her breasts. He let his eyes fall past her bust to her waist which was cinched and the skirt tight. Brock looked at her feet and licked his lips. She wore cream colored stilletos that still didn't bring her near his height. 

"Ms. Lewis." He nodded. She sat in the plush chair before he took his seat. 

They stared at one another before she started to laugh. Brock let a smile grace his features. He rubbed at his five o'clock shadow as she said,"Is this weird? Like can we pretend this isn't weird?" She grabbed the decanter for water and filled her clean glass at the table. 

Brock was happy to note that she didn't look drunk. She didn't have that pink flush across her face or chest that the last seven women had had. "Maybe? I think this whole situation is weird." He watched as she rolled her eyes playfully. "Are you having fun though?"

She motioned to the new glasses of whiskeys in front of them. "I enjoy whiskey and a friend put me up for this...and she paid." Ms. Lewis shrugged and rolled her glass under her nose.

"I also had a friend sign me up, but she didn't pay." He lifted his glass with a smile and was pleasantly surprised to actually smell the almondy-marzipan notes. The second date's perfume had stuck with him for the last hour and a half. 

"So, Mr. Rumlow." Ms. Lewis purred before she looked at him from behind her wavy styled hair, she wasn't wearing her thick framed glasses tonight. 

"You..uh.. can call me Brock." He stuttered a bit. Natasha was the absolute worst. Hunting down terrorist cells? No fucking problem. Interacting with gorgeous women who weren't his ex-wife or co-workers he was easily tongue tied. 

"I hope you aren't calling me Ms. Lewis in your head." She sipped her whiskey and gargled it.

He cleared his throat. "I was." His voice was deep and sultry. Brock peeked at her over the glass rim as she choked on the whiskey. Darcy had to swallow down that sip before she laughed. "I mean, you got my kid an internship at Pym Tech for the summer, it's what everyone calls you."

Her brows rose high. "Everyone?" 

Brock kept swirling his glass. "A few of my fellow sailors have kids that were your students. You made an impact on most of them." He tilted his glass towards her. "Especially Clint Barton."

"Clint Barton is a special breed of human." She waved a finger at him. "And he knows not to spread lies." She sipped at the glass. "One glass won't hurt, right?"

Brock shrugged. "It would be my only glass."

"Like I said, I like whiskey, and I like whiskey tastings, I'm no lush." She smirked. "Some people don't know how to behave themselves at events like these. Sloppy drunks at tastings are the worst." Darcy leaned her head in her hand and leveled Brock with a playful look. "Barton is the reason why every military parent who crosses my path is afraid of me, you know." Brock let his eyes wander from her face down to her shoulders until he looked at her lethal looking manicure. He had asked Sinthea about the pointed nails and her only reply was _Fashion, darling_. "I did my student teaching with his wife and she taught me everything I know about interacting with students and their parents."

He looked back up at her. Laura left teaching ten years ago to care for the kids full time once Clint was promoted. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Laura took no shit after her third pregnancy." Darcy laughed.

"She's the only one who can keep Clint in line." Brock sat forward and took a sip from his glass. The plum notes were forward but as he swallowed, a bouquet of other fruits came through. "Clint and I have been working together for a long time."

"I can't even imagine what you guys have gone through." Darcy said seriously.

"We are just doing our jobs." Brock felt his cheeks flush. Thankfully his olive skin tone tended to hide it. 

They fell into silence as they sipped their whiskeys. He cleared his throat. "I don't think Sinthea and I thanked you enough for pushing us to get Tommy evaluated, it is really going to help him next year."

"Oh Sinthea sent a very thoughtful gift basket." Darcy took the last sip of her whiskey. "She didn't tell you?"

"Oh God. I hope it wasn't inappropriate." Brock put his head in his hand and shook it. "She doesn't know when to quit sometimes."

Darcy reached out and put her hand on his free hand. "Oh no, it was very thoughtful and very welcome." She patted his hand. "She really didn't tell you? She signed your name and everything."

Brock moved the hand from his forehead and put it atop of hers. "Her and I live very separate lives. The string holding us together is my son." 

"That's what your son said too." She looked at him with sad eyes before she leaned back. 

Brock was thankful when the last bell rang. He put back the rest of the whiskey and stood. "Are you going to purchase any of the whiskeys?" He moved around the table and helped her out of her seat. Darcy was pulled up very close to his chest. She smelled like expensive whiskey and a subtle floral perfume.

She looked up at him through her lashes and smiled. "I was thinking about the Starward Single Malt." He noticed she had a devious smirk. "I also like wine so that whiskey called to me."

The Starward had a heavy wine note and it had been buttery across his tongue. Definitely a whiskey he would buy in the future. "Let me get it for you, it's the least I can do for all you've done."

"Really?" She moved to grab her whiskey note card and the very blank date card. 

"Really." He nodded curtly. "Least I can do."

"I can meet you at the counter in a few minutes? I want to fill this out and turn it in before I make any decisions." Darcy smiled and waved the note card at him. Brock nodded. As she turned, his eyes dipped low and he unapologetically watched her ass wiggle as she walked away.

They stood next to one another ten minutes later with four bottles of whiskey in front of them. "Are you sure? I mean, really, you don't have to buy both of them for me."

Brock moved his hand to her lower back to move her away from one of the drunk men to the left of her. "Just let me do this for you, Darcy." His intense gaze held hers for a moment before she acquiesced. With a nod, she let him pull out his wallet. He slipped the cashier a credit card before smiling. "I know they'll be appreciated." The cashier handed him back his card before he bagged the bottles into individualized bags. 

"Were you going to head out?" Brock grabbed all four bags by their rope handles and moved from the desk. She nodded 

As they stood next to the coat check, Brock handed her two bottles over. Darcy crossed her legs and stood there as she assessed him. "You're a hard one to read, Brock Rumlow." 

"Am I?" He smirked. 

"You've been nothing but polite to me since we met." 

"And that makes me hard to read?"

She tapped her manicured finger against her lip. "Yeah, you've been nothing but professional towards me and usually the single dad's have made a pass at me by now. I'm not saying that to be vain, it just seems to happen no matter how unwelcome it is, which is ninety nine point nine percent of the time. But, you have the same poker face as Clint and I can't tell what you're thinking."

Brock nodded. "I set a good example for all of my sailors in everything I do." He leaned against the wall. "I have values I adhere to." 

She took a step forward and poked him in the chest. "But, we are here, at a dating event, and you've still been nothing but professional."

Brock held onto her wrist to stop her poking. He leaned towards her and asked, "Did you want me to be something other than professional?" 

"Maybe." Her eyes glittered. "It's cliche, but, you really filled out that uniform." Brock laughed quietly. "Ah! He can laugh!"

Brock dropped her hand and moved it to her hip. "And if I was hot for teacher, would it be unwelcome?" 

Darcy moved closer to him, letting him wrap his arm a little farther around her waist. "It's so unwelcome that I'd ask you over to taste these whiskeys… and something a little more."

~~

His hand was inching up her skirt when he felt her lips graze his ear. Brock moaned into her neck and stilled his hand. 

"Don't stop now, Brock." Darcy whispered.

"Just.. I need a second." He panted against her soft skin as she licked him. 

"You take all the time you need, Commander." Her voice was husky. Aroused. A hint of the Starward Single Malt slipping through. 

How did he get here? 

Brock had grabbed her leather jacket and his blazer from the coat check before they left the building, smiles on both of their faces. He had walked Darcy to her modest Honda Civic and she had invited him to follow her back to her apartment. With an address and new number in his phone, Darcy held his unshaven face in her hand and laid her lips on his. He could feel her curled smile. Brock had kissed back, sucking on her lower lip before moving towards his Jeep.

Brock pulled his hand out from under her skirt and reached for the tumbler of whiskey on the coffee table. "Christ woman, you're sin walking." He took a long swallow of the whiskey.

Darcy rubbed a nude covered nylon foot up his ankle. "This is my only good dress." 

The empty glass clinked on the table before Brock looked back at her. "I've seen you at work, all your dresses are good dresses." He dragged her lips into a long kiss. Darcy's nails carded through his hair. His hand reached back to her spread thighs. Her thighs made as much room for him as they could in her tight skirt. Brock rubbed his fingers up her outer thigh before he came to the familiar feeling of a thin garter strap. "Fuck, Darcy, you've been hiding these all night?" 

She hummed before she arched her breasts against his chest. "My friend who signed me up was very specific in what I was supposed to wear." Darcy ran her hands down his back. "She paid. It's the least I could do."

Brock kneeled on the plush rug before he pushed the skirt of her dress up to her hips. "Holy shit." His hands ran across the lace topped stockings and fingered at the straps he could find. Brock's lips fell to her inner thigh and he mouthed up the smooth stocking before he moved to her soft skin. Darcy sighed happily above him.

As he nosed his way to her matching red panties, he heard her grab her drink from the side table. Brock looked up as she brought the glass to her lips and took a drink. Did she know how fucking beautiful she looked? She was all curves and milky skin from this angle. Darcy was panting softly, her chest bounced. Her lips stained the edge of the glass as she chased a drop of whiskey. She flicked her eyes down to him and asked, "Are you going to tease me all night?"

He nipped at her thigh. "I think I'll take my time."

She carded her free hand through his hair again. "Alright." Darcy folded her knees and widened her thighs for him, inviting him exactly where he wanted to be. "Take as long as you want."

Pleasuring a woman from between her thighs was one of Brock's top five favorite things in the world. With a woman as stunning as Darcy above him, it was definitely in the running for his favorite thing. He licked his lips and nodded before his hands gripped her thighs and pushed them even wider. She would ache in the morning.

His tongue traced a line from the top of her stockings, over the edge of her lingerie and down her center. Brock could smell her arousal. He reached down between his own thighs and readjusted himself, his briefs rubber against the sensitive head of his hard cock. His tongue licked a slow line up the thin fabric and felt out the shape of her labia with his tongue. 

Darcy made an approving noise above him, her head was against the back of the couch. Her dark curls were wild across her shoulders. Her mouth was open with a sigh. Brock smiled, he loved it when a woman enjoyed this and wasn't just entertaining him. 

Later, after feeling her wetness seep through the fabric, Brock gently pulled her panties aside with one hand and looked at her flushed pussy. Fuck. She was trimmed around her opening. Her outer labia was puffy and her inner lips peaked out at him, thin and open. her clit was stiff and large, and the sheer wetness of it all… well, Brock wasn't one to leave a lady waiting. His tongue dipped between her lips and traveled towards her clit in one long lick. "Fuck." Darcy's hand gripped his hair harder as he continued on, tasting her.

Her arousal was around his lips and he could feel some on his chin as he slipped a finger into her. The clink of her glass hitting the table was the only warning before her sharp nails pressed into his shoulder. He looked up and met her eyes before uttering, "I'm going to make you come, Darcy." He didn't have many words. Brock was still taken aback at how beautiful she looked above him.

"Nuh uh." She shook her head 

"You're going to come, Darcy." He pushed another thick finger into her and moved them in tandem with the licks and sucks he made to her clit.

"Not gonna happen." She moaned above him.

"I think it is." Brock smiled and curled his fingers up and massaged her inner walls. He could feel her getting wetter. Brock moved up her body as he kept his hand moving steadily in her. The wet sounds that were coming from her pussy made his cock twitch and leak in his dress pants. "You should come, Darcy, it'll feel real good." He whispered to her before he caught her lips in a sloppy kiss. 

She held his face in her hands as she chased his lips. Her mouth and tongue moved to lick her juices up off his chin. "Fuck." Darcy panted under him as he changed the angle of his hand.

Brock reached back down and pushed on the top of her mound as he picked up his pace. "I can feel you tightening around my fingers, honey." She was almost too tight around his fingers. Brock knew this feeling. It had been a long time since a woman had held an orgasm back from him, but he didn't mind, he liked to work for it. Brock knelt again and put his lips and tongue back to work. It wasn't much longer before a hand pushed his mouth painfully closer to her clit and he doubled down and focused there. Darcy's muscles pushed his fingers out as she moaned long and hard. Brock flicked his eyes up as he worked her clit. Her free hand had pulled the cup of her dress and bra down to hold her breast gently. Brock's freed fingers felt a trickle of come seep out of her before he pushed gently back in. She was impossibly tight around him as her muscles twitched. 

"S'that what you needed?" He said after her hand loosened its grip on his skull. Brock gently dragged his fingers out of her and slowly pushed them back in.

"Fuck." She reached for her glass again before she drained it. "Get up here." 

Brock was pulled up, his fingers brought to her lips and Darcy sucked at them as she stood. Darcy turned and coyly asked, "Unzip me?" Her ass pressed against his erection and he grinded against her. Brock moved her thick curls out of the way before he dragged the zipper down. 

"You're the sexiest woman I've ever laid eyes on." Darcy's dress pooled around her feet. She slipped the silk panties down her legs to join her dress. Brock grabbed her bare ass and snapped one of the garter straps before he slipped his hand between her legs again.

Darcy stood and unhooked her bra deftly, her fingers pulling the _five_ hooks apart. Brock watched as it dropped and the large cup covered his empty glass of whiskey. "Lay on the couch, Brock." 

Their eyes met again before she pulled him in by the collar and kissed him hard. She pushed him down across the cushions before she straddled his thighs. His hands held her waist and his finger rubbed at the cream lace of the garter belt.

"I've been thinking about this for months." Darcy licked her smudged lips above him before she crawled up his chest.

The last thing Brock saw before he gripped her ass to hold her closer was her pussy dripping above him. His last thought before Darcy claimed him was that this was actually his favorite thing in the world.

~~

Sinthea was smoking a cigarette in front of him again. Brock rolled his eyes and watched the smoke trail up to the umbrella covering them from the hot August sun. "Are you fucking her?"

He choked on his espresso. "Jesus Christ, Sinthea." 

Her hand gestured, the cigarettes smoke trailing after it. "I'm just asking."

His eyes tried to burn holes into the cancer stick. "I've never given you grief over any of the men Tommy's told me about "

"Well," she leaned forward on her free arm, "Tommy doesn't know about it, does he?"

He crossed his arms across his chest. His tight black shirt moved up his biceps and showed the large tattoos that Darcy enjoyed tracing when she woke in his bed. The woman across the cafe from them stared, her salad fork hung under her chin. "Why can't I have a personal life?"

"We might be divorced, but your safety is still paramount to Tommy and I." Sinthea took a drag off her cigarette again. Her bright orange blouse moved in the wind. They both were exhibitionists, if they admitted it or not. Her breasts were on display, a hint of her lace nude bra peeked out. The man that sat with the woman across the cafe fumbled with his water glass. 

His stubbled jaw was set as he ground his teeth. "Why can't I have a bit of happiness?"

Sinthea huffed and leaned back in her chair. He watched as her ash teetered on the end of the cigarette. "It's not that." She flicked the ash to the side. "Natasha mentioned that you've applied for a training supervisor position at JSOC. Tommy's begged you, your mother's begged you, fuck even I made comments about you taking that job for years." Her hands gestured again. "You get involved with some young, bubbly, always optimistic woman and you're finally willing to change your life around?"

Brock closed his eyes and took steadying breaths. After digesting what she asked, Brock answered. "I'm at the end of my usefulness. I don't want to go on missions that will fail because of my age." He pointed at her. "You know fifty is pushing past the upper limit for my team. We've been the most successful team in the history of the Navy, and I want to keep it that way." He grabbed his espresso and finished it. "I am a part of this team so Tommy could have a college fund, so he could be set for the rest of his life if anything ever happened to me."

A long drag of the cigarette filled Sinthea's lungs. "You know my father and I are going to fund his education. It was part of the divorce agreement." She exhaled through her nose.

"Yeah, but what about his expenses?" 

She rolled her eyes. "That boy wants for nothing. He only wants you home and safe."

Brock placed the small cup down and leaned forward, "Darcy knocked my head on straight and I've realized what exactly I have missed for the last twenty years. Protecting this country has been my life's work. And Tommy should have come before that. You should have come before that."

"Don't get all sentimental on me now, asshole " She ashed her cigarette again and they heard a whispered argument from the couple sitting at the other table.

Brock and Sinthea side eyed the couple across the cafe before smiling at each other. "Yeah, keep dreaming." Sinthea said under her breath before she laughed. 

"You're still a bitch, ya know? I stand by that." Brock stated.

"Well, this bitch is the mother to your son, and no woman will take that away from me." She sniffed with disdain 

He made a sound of disapproval. "Darcy isn't like that. For whatever reason, she actually likes you. She thinks you're witty in that snarky way. She likes how you jumped through hoops and paid off doctors to get Tommy evaluated quicker. Darcy _isn't_ going to take your place." 

Sinthea stabbed her cigarette out in the provided aluminum dish. She looked up through her curls and asked, "She as fun as she looks?"

"Goddamnit Sinthea, why you do you always do this? Pervert." He shook his head. There was a time where him and Sinthea _would_ look at other women together so she could have a spot of fun while he was deployed. "And she really is fun, but you won't be getting your talons in her. If it's up to me, once I get this JSOC job, you'll be getting a flashy, glittery, homemade fucking wedding invitation in the mail."

Sinthea threw her head back and laughed. "She _must_ be fun."

~~

"Uh.. Ms. Lewis?" 

Brock heard his son ask from the arch that led into the kitchen. He pulled the whistling tea pot off the stove before he turned to Darcy and his son.

"Thomas." Darcy's voice was thick with sleep. She sat at the island in one of his Navy PT shirts and a pair of his loose sweatpants. Her hair was piled messily and high atop her head when they woke. "Coffee." She held her empty cup out to Brock. 

He grabbed the cup and moved to where the clean AeroPress was sitting, waiting to fill her mug.

"Uh dad…." Tommy moved into the kitchen, his backpack over his shoulder. 

"You're supposed to be at Sinthea's until Wednesday." Brock said matter of factly. It was early Saturday morning, and Brock was a disgustingly chipper morning person who used his home gym every day at five. He poured the steaming water into the AeroPress and mixed the grinds before he pushed. 

"I forgot this Pym thing." He placed his bag on the island and sat down. 

Brock watched Darcy turn to look at his son. He was in a plaid button up and pressed grey pants, his dark hair styled with a tight fade on the sides and longer gelled locks at the top. There was no mistaking that Tommy was his son with his olive skin and sharp features. She held her hand out towards Brock and he deposited the warm mug in her hand.

"Is.. uh.. is this why I'm not in your class this year for history?" Tommy blinked his hazel eyes and looked between the two of them.

Brock leaned against the counter and pulled his protein shake towards him. He sipped his shake as Darcy nodded. "We spoke to the school in July about your schedule." Brock said.

" _July?_ " Tommy looked between them. "July!? It's _October!_ " He reached for Brock's shake and gulped from it before he put it back on the counter. Tommy held out his fist and said, "Go dad."

"Oh my god." Darcy muttered under her breath and drank more of her coffee. Brock fist bumped his son and smiled.

"Welp, smell ya later nerds, I need to break the laws of science." He stood quickly and grabbed his bag. His previously surprised look was erased by teenage mischievousness. "So if you can have women over, does this mean Cassie Lang can stay the night?" 

Tommy was almost to the front door before it processed and Brock bellowed, "Absolutely not!"

"Don't do anything I would do!" His son yelled back to him before he slammed the front door.

Finally, Brock was able to slip onto the bar stool next to Darcy. "Who's Cassie Lang?" He drank the last of his protein shake.

Darcy shook her head and sipped at her mug. "Pym's adopted granddaughter."

Brock sputters. "What?"

~~

Darcy draped herself across his chest breathlessly before she asked, "So what are you going to do now that you've retired from the Navy?" 

Brock curled her dark hair around a finger before he caught her lips in a slow kiss. "Love you." He kissed her again. "Relax." Brock ran a hand down to her stomach and said, "Watch our baby grow." She held him tighter. "Love my family." He moved his hand to her ass and grabbed her. "Finally go on that honeymoon I've been promising you for three years."

She ran a hand up and down his chest. Their eyes met and she smirked, "What's this I heard about you running a training gym with Barton and Romanov?"

"Who'd you hear those lies from, honey?" He closed his eyes and smiled.

"Laura." She pinched his waist. He was immoveable.

"She's a lying liar." He sighed happily and held her tighter. "It's me, Barton and a couple of army guys he picked up in his travels. Romanov does what Romanov does."

"She's sneaky." Darcy laughed. "I'm glad she signed us both up for the whiskey tasting."

"Let's stop talking about all these people." Brock opened his eyes and looked at her again with a sly smile. "I want to celebrate retirement again." 

He pulled Darcy up to sit on his thighs and he held her hips steady. Their eyes met and Darcy flushed across her ample chest. Brock's hands dipped down and held onto her ass again. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, honey."

**Author's Note:**

> Sinthea Shmidt is actually Crossbones' love interest in the comics, so I figured her being his ex wife fit and her whole heiress attitude... I just rolled with it. 
> 
> This was a fic where I tried to write Brock a little less smug, someone who really cares about his family and is very goal oriented with his work. 
> 
> I might have borrowed a better behaved Tommy from grimeysociety.
> 
> The whiskey is a real whiskey and it's phenomenal. 
> 
> Also... Please stop me. I can't even with these two.


End file.
